


My Dumbass

by Freckles_From_Brooklyn



Series: Preemptive Fix-it Fics because god knows we're gonna need it [33]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Jon's very dramatic I don't make the rules, M/M, Post canon, Preemptive fix it, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:22:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29697066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freckles_From_Brooklyn/pseuds/Freckles_From_Brooklyn
Summary: Jon's incredibly dramatic when he's sick. Followup to yesterday's fic, "I'll Take Care of You."
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Preemptive Fix-it Fics because god knows we're gonna need it [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132277
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	My Dumbass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [traveller19](https://archiveofourown.org/users/traveller19/gifts).



Jon had caught Martin’s flu. Of course he had. About two days after Martin started to feel better, Jon started complaining about chills and congestion, and when Martin took his temperature, he was running a fever. 

“Honestly, I don’t know what you were expecting,” Martin chided as he carried his husband to bed. “I told you to stay out of the guest bedroom while I was in there. I told you this was going to happen.” Jon just rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Martin. 

“Yeah, yeah,” He retorted. “Sorry for trying to be a good husband and take care of the love of my life, I guess.”

“I told you I can take care of myself,” Martin reminded him. 

“I can’t believe I’m dying and all I hear is scolding,” Jon complained. 

“Dramatic little shit,” Martin said affectionately. “You’re not dying, you’re just a little sick, that’s all.”

“No, I’m  _ dying _ ,” Jon insisted, putting his hand to his forehead like the leading lady in an old black and white movie. Martin just laughed. 

“Well, I suppose since you’re  _ dying _ , you don’t get any of my chicken soup,” he said thoughtfully. “None of my homemade bread either.”

“Wait, what?” Jon whined, dropping the act immediately. “Martin! That’s not fair!” Martin just grinned and shrugged. 

“Dead people don’t need food,” He pointed out. 

“Bastard,” Jon mumbled, burying his face in Martin’s shoulder. Martin chuckled and set Jon down on the bed in the guest room, tucking him in before going to make a mug of tea. 

“I’m going into town to get the ingredients for the soup,” He said, coming back into the room with the mug and the book that Jon had been reading. “We’re all out of chicken since you made soup for me when I was sick. There are tissues on the nightstand. Try to get some rest, okay?”

“I’m being abandoned,” Jon grumbled, leaning back against the pillows.

“You’re being dramatic,” Martin corrected him. “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’m just a text or a phone call away.” he ran his fingers through Jon’s hair before kissing him gently on the head. “I love you,” he said. Jon hummed contentedly, leaning into Martin’s touch. 

When Martin returned from the store, he found Jon sprawled out on the bed, half under the covers, half on top of them, snoring softly. Several discarded tissues littered the bed and the floor around him. His book was lying open on his chest.

“Dumbass,” Martin murmured, mostly to himself, but he couldn’t help but smile. Jon always had his best interests at heart, even if his methods weren’t the best. Martin cleaned up the tissues and tucked Jon back in before heading to the kitchen. He had a sick husband to take care of.


End file.
